Fortune Trilogy 1 - Fortune's Mistress (19 page)

When they’d first returned to Arawak, the weather had been too foul for her to dive. She and James and Kutii had spent six days camped on the island. During those days, she’d found herself greatly drawn to the Incan. From the first, she had been at ease with him, and as each day passed, she could better understand his strange speech. Never in her life had Lacy become so close to another person so quickly. It was as though they had always been friends ... even more, it was as though they were bound by bonds of blood kinship.

The first time she dived down to the
Miranda,
Kutii went with her. He couldn’t go as deep as she could, but he followed her down about forty feet, knife clenched between his teeth and watching anxiously as she continued into the depths. James told her later that Kutii had surfaced for air, then dived again. The Indian was waiting for her when she came up with a handful of golden objects.

As she’d seen in her vision, the wreck had shifted and broken down the middle. Two chests of priceless treasure had lain on the sand, waiting for her. She’d known it would be so. She hadn’t even been surprised. And she marveled at James’s excitement when she dropped a glove of thin beaten gold into his hands. “I told you,” she reminded him. “I told you that the ship would open up.”

Kutii lifted her up out of the water onto the deck, and she laughed and unknotted a lock of her hair. A pair of gold and turquoise earrings tumbled down. Kutii caught them and looked hard at the jewelry before he passed it back to her.

“Ye remember these pieces,” she said gently.

He nodded. “They are sacred objects—stolen from my people. I carry them on my back, across Panama, through jungle and mountains, from the west salt sea to the east. First I carry them as slave to the Spanish, then for English. But this is Incan gold. Not Spanish. Not English. Incan.” He went to squat on the bow of the boat and stare out over the water. And when he finally joined them again, some of the sadness seemed to have gone out of his dark heathen eyes.

She went down to the
Miranda
again that day, and twice every day since then. And every day the heap of treasure in the cabin of the
Silkie
grew larger.

Because of the depth, she could only stay a short time on the ocean floor. Each dive produced another priceless object, sometimes two. Rings, armbands, necklaces, and statues of gleaming yellow gold. Cups and bowls, and once a perfect feather carved of shining silver.

She didn’t tell James that she was also diving at night while he slept, moving gold from the shelf on the coral reef—where she hid it on her way up during the daytime dives—to the underwater cave. Kutii knew. Once, she even allowed him to come with her into the cave. Kutii would not betray her secret. Instinctively, Lacy felt that the Incan was an ally, and that she could count on his support no matter what the cost.

Another thing she didn’t tell James was that the
Miranda
rested on the edge of a precipice, and that another storm might sweep the wreck into a narrow canyon in the sea floor. If it did, there would be no chance of recovering the remainder of the treasure. She was already diving deeper than she should, and she could go no farther into the ocean depths.

For days, Lacy hardly spoke to James. Her fierce anger had cooled to a throbbing ache. After all that had passed between them, and despite her growing certainty that she carried James’s child, she was certain she couldn’t trust him anymore. He’d let her down and risked her safety. He was a pirate—nothing more. And she’d never forget it, or let her guard down with him again.

“You’re still angry over what happened on Jamaica, aren’t you?” James said when she gave him a black look for the third time in as many hours. “I’ve told you, over and over, I had an escape plan.”

“So ye say,” Lacy replied stubbornly. “But if it wasn’t for me, you’d have lost both me and the gold.”

He took hold of her shoulders and yanked her close, forcing her to face him. “Damn it, woman!” he exclaimed. “I’d never have left you with Matthew. I love you. You know that.”

She looked into his eyes. “Ye love me?”

“You know I do.”

“Enough to make me your wife?”

His fingers cut into her bare shoulders. She dived naked except for the ragged shift, and the thin cloth provided little protection. She winced at the sudden discomfort of his embrace. Behind her, she heard Kutii’s angry intake of breath.

“I want you with me, Lacy,” James said. “Always.”

A sharp pain knifed through her midsection, not physical pain but the keener pain of the spirit. “But ye won’t marry me,” she uttered flatly.

“I am the king’s son. I must wed a woman of my own class.”

She twisted free and brushed aside the lock of hair that covered her witch’s scar. “A lady without a mark like this,” she accused.

“You knew it from the first,” he reminded her. “I never lied to you, Lacy. I mean to have my rightful station in life. I’ll have my father’s respect, and I’ll let nothing and no one stand in my way. Not even you ...”

Nausea rose in her throat and she swallowed back the bile. She’d not cry—not if she was to roast in hell for it. He spoke the truth. He thought her good enough to lie with—good enough to get with child—but not good enough to wed.

“Aye,” she agreed in a low, dry voice. “I’ve known from the first.” She took a step backward. “But you’re not the only one with a dream, Jamie. I’ve dreams of my own. And if you’ll not share them, so be it.”

Turning away from him, she dived over the side of the boat. As the blue-green water closed over her head, she welcomed the soothing touch of the warm liquid against her skin. The ache in her heart was bitter, but she’d not let it keep her from hunting for the treasure.

The sooner she recovered the gold, the sooner she could fulfill her dream of buying a farm. She tried to focus on the promise of owning her own land instead of on Jamie’s hurtful words. But even the sea around her couldn’t drown her sorrow.

She had not gone more than fifteen feet down when an excruciating muscle cramp in her right leg caught her unawares. Doubling up, she grabbed the aching limb. She knew she should be swimming, but the pain was overwhelming, and she rolled onto her back.

Suddenly, Kutii’s sturdy form appeared beside her. Grasping her arm, he began pulling her up toward the surface. Then, without warning, a gray form sliced through the water behind him. Lacy’s eyes widened in fear and she pointed at the hammerhead shark bearing down on them. She tried to swim, but the knotted muscle in her leg slowed her reaction.

The shark was so close now that she could see the curve of its eye. Kutii twisted to meet the attack. His knife flashed, gouging a bloody furrow in the hammerhead’s skin. The creature rolled and thrashed its tail. Kutii shoved her away as a dull boom sounded in her ears.

Lacy’s head broke the surface and she screamed for James. He leaned over the gunnel and fired again at the shark. “Kutii!” Lacy cried.

For a long moment the shadowy forms of man and shark were lost in swirling clouds of blood. Lacy reached the boat in four strokes and James pulled her to safety. “A shark! A big hammerhead!” she cried.

“Are you hurt?”

“No. But Kutii ... Kutii ...” She was fighting back tears when the Indian’s dark head bobbed up near the stern. “There he is!” she cried. “James! There!”

James threw him a rope, and the Incan climbed onto the deck, still clutching his knife. Blood streamed down one copper-skinned arm and seeped from a ragged bite on his thigh, but his eyes gleamed and his thin lips were parted in a grim smile. “He will not harm you, that one,” Kutii said softly. “I, Kutii, have killed him.”

“With a little help from my musket,” James added.

“With my knife I have killed him,” the Indian insisted.

“And saved my life,” Lacy said. “Thank you.” She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. “That was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“What about when I rescued you from the guards at Tyburn?” James asked. “Or when I killed all those pirates for you?”

Lacy squeezed Kutii’s hand. “We’re even now,” she said. “I rescued you from the sugar mill and you saved me from the shark. You’re free to go now.”

“Never,” Kutii answered. “You are the star woman, the hope of my ancestors. I never leave you, not in his world or the next.”

“Damned fool Indian,” James muttered.

Lacy turned and started to admonish him when the sight of a ship coming around the far side of the island caught her attention. “Look!” she cried, pointing. “A square-rigger. Heading straight for us.”

James turned to stare at the sleek three-masted vessel bearing down on them. “You son of a bitch,” he swore, shading his eyes from the sun. “That’s not just a ship. That’s Captain Matthew Kay, and unless I miss my guess, he’s come to rob us of our treasure!”

“M
att . . . you sly old son of a bitch.” James pointed to Kutii and shouted. “Get the anchor up!” He reached the foremast in two strides. “Lacy!” Without hesitation, she sprang into action. She was at his side in seconds, her deft hands in motion.

Canvas cracked in the stiff breeze as they unfurled the sails. As soon as Kutii pulled the anchor, James ran to the tiller, steering the
Silkie
overtop the reef and straight in toward the island cliffs where he knew Matthew’s square-rigger with its greater draft couldn’t follow.

James glanced back at the larger ship. He’d felt the
Silkie
scrape bottom as they came across the shallows. Matthew’s vessel hadn’t altered course a degree. If she didn’t come about soon, she’d split her hull on the jagged reef.

Lacy and Kutii were both staring at the pursuing ship. Then Kutii ducked down into the cabin.

“What’s he doing?” James called.

Lacy shook her head and replied, but the rush of wind and water drowned out her words. Kutii reappeared shortly, bearing a heavy bundle wrapped in cloth. He and Lacy both went to the starboard, and Kutii dropped the bag over the side. It sank like a stone.

“What the hell—” James protested.

“We threw the treasure overboard,” Lacy cried. “The water’s not so deep here. I can bring it up again later.”

“You
what?”

Suddenly, there was a loud boom and a puff of smoke from one of the square-rigger’s guns. A cannonball splashed into the sea a dozen yards off the
Silkie’s
bow.

“Not very good aim,” Lacy said wryly. Her pale face was the only sign of fear as she flipped an obscene gesture toward the gunner.

A rush of pride brought moisture to James’s eyes. Damn but she had nerve to shame half the men that ever sailed! She was one of a kind, this woman of his. Had he a crew with her courage, he could have cleared the Caribbean of Spaniards.

A second shot followed, ten yards ahead of them. With the cannon’s roar came cold reality. His brow creased with worry as he leaned toward Lacy. “They were meant as a warning. At this range, we’re ducks in a barrel.”

A knot of shame formed in the pit of James’s stomach. God rot his greedy bowels! What was he thinking of to risk Lacy’s life so? He should have been protecting her, caring for her—not setting her up for cannon practice.

Matthew Kay was not a man to hold back when he wanted something. Matthew meant to have a share of the treasure, will he nill he. And if it meant Lacy’s death—all of their deaths—then ...

Matthew’s deep voice thundered at them through a speaking trumpet. “James! It’s over! You can’t escape!”

At the last moment, just when James thought it was too late to avoid tearing into the reef, the square-rigger slowly righted its course to sail parallel to the shoreline, just beyond the sharp edge of the reef. Ahead, around the bend, was the natural deep harbor that would allow the big ship to come in close to the beach. But Matthew Kay knew the passageway as well as James did.

“Damn him to a bloody hell,” James swore. He glanced at a white-faced Lacy beside him. “He’s right. He’s got us.” The
Silkie
had passed the cliffs by now and was about eighty feet off the beach. The depth of the water was approximately thirty feet and dropping off fast as they neared the bend ahead. The sandy shoreline had been undercut by recent storms, and the trees ran down to the water, their naked roots exposed even at high tide.

“Take her into shore,” Lacy urged. “We’ll hide in the jungle.”

“I can’t,” he answered. He didn’t have time to explain that there were limestone formations all along the water’s edge. The natural fingers of rock would rip out the
Silkie’s
bottom. As it was, the breakers were making it difficult to steer the small boat.

“Trim the sails,” he ordered Lacy after a few minutes. “We’ll have to see if we can talk our way out of this.” It was hard to keep the disappointment from his voice. Surrender would mean giving up at least a share of the treasure, but there didn’t seem to be any other way out.

“I won’t!” she answered hotly. “Ye can still beat him to—”

The cannon cracked again, and as James watched in horror, the ball came straight for the
Silkie.
“Jump!” he screamed at Lacy. Throwing his arms around her, he leaped for the railing. At that instant the cannonball struck the forward cabin. There was a terrible sound of splintering wood and James felt a hammerlike blow to his back. A fiery pain radiated through his body, and he blacked out as the salt water closed over his head.

 

When James opened his eyes again, he was in a ship’s cabin. He groaned and tried to sit up, then fell back as sweat broke out on his forehead and the fires of hell raged in his back.

“Lie still,” a familiar voice said. A man’s hand touched James’s face. “Try not to move. You’ll tear loose your stitches.”

James forced his eyes open. His lids were gritty and felt as though they weighed ten pounds each. For a few seconds, the cabin spun around and around. Slowly, Matthew Kay’s concerned face came into focus. “Matt?” James croaked. His lips were cracked and dry. His throat felt as if he’d swallowed a bushel of sand. “Water.” Matthew held a cup to his lips and he swallowed awkwardly.

James drew in a ragged breath and tried to get his bearings. A brass ship’s lantern hung overhead, and the yellow flame flickered against paneled walls. He realized he must be in Matthew’s cabin on the square-rigger. “It’s night,” he rasped. “Have I been unconscious all day?”

“You’ve had a fever,” the captain answered. His lined features seemed to have aged ten years since James had last seen him on Jamaica. “It’s been three days.”

“Three—” An icy fist tightened in James’s chest. “Lacy? Where’s Lacy?”

Matthew caught his shoulders and forced him back against the bunk. It wasn’t a struggle. James felt as weak as a milk-fed infant.

“The woman’s all right. It’s you who’s given us a fright. You took a broken plank between the shoulder blades. You bled enough to drown a dwarf.”

“Where is she? I want to see her.”

“Ashore. She was hysterical when she saw how bad you were hurt. I thought it best if—”

“You’re lying to me,” James flung black. “Lacy’s never been hysterical in her life. Where is she? If you’ve harmed—”

“Sinking your boat was an accident, James,” Matthew said with obvious regret. “My orders were to frighten you. The gunner who’s responsible is hanging from a yardarm. I never meant harm to any of you.”

“But you want the treasure.”

“Aye.” Matthew nodded. “I’ve given up enough for it. I’ve a right to it, boy. Or at least to a captain’s share. Who brought it from Panama?” He poured three fingers of rum and offered it to James. “A lot of good men died for that gold ... in the jungle and here, off this island. Men who sailed under me for ten years and more. I’ll not be gainsaid, James. You’ll cut me in, or I’ll cut you out.”

“You betrayed Morgan. You’re as much a pirate as they named you.”

Matthew laughed. “Betrayed him? Hell, yes, I betrayed Henry Morgan. And he betrayed us—and England. We’re all pirates, every man jack of us. What matters is what we take with a sword and what we hold in our hands. You’re no different than me. All your fancy words and fancy manners can’t change it.”

“You’re wrong,” James protested. “We held letters of marque. We sailed as privateers, not pirates. What we did, we did under English law.”

The older man laughed. “Lie to other men, James, but don’t lie to yourself. Didn’t I teach you better than that? Privateer ...
boucanier
... Ha!” He made a sound of derision. “The line between them is as thin as smoke, and we crossed it long ago.”

“You did, not me.” James shook his head, ignoring the agony in his back, which intensified with the slightest movement. “I’ve fought the Spanish and the French, but I’ve never fired on an English ship.”

Matthew fixed him with an unwavering gaze. “You fought when that British man-of-war attacked the
Miranda,
didn’t you?”

“That was different. That was self-defense.”

“You fired on his majesty’s flag. That makes you a pirate, James. And what does a word matter? I want you back with me. I have plans, boy. I’ll be a royal governor before I’m through—and you can be part of it.”

“All I have to do is hand over the treasure, and go back to taking orders from you.”

“Was it so bad—those years we were together?”

“Hell, no.” James gritted his teeth against the pain and tried to concentrate on what Matthew was saying. He felt sick to his stomach, and his head was aching something fierce. “They were good years,” he admitted, “and I always—”

“You were the son I never had. There, it’s said. Plain as ship’s biscuit. You’ve reason enough to know that I’m a man for the women, but I’ve loved you, boy. I still love you. But not even our friendship will keep me from having what’s rightfully mine. I’ll have it from you willingly, or I’ll have it hard. But I’ll have it.”

“We’ll talk about the gold after I see Lacy.”

“There’s the rub of it.” Matthew spread his hands helplessly. “I don’t know where she is.”

The sick feeling in James’s middle turned to an icy numbness. “What do you mean—you don’t know where she is? If she drowned ...”

“I didn’t want you to fret over her. She’s not dead. I’m sure of that. The Indian pulled her out of the water and carried her into the jungle.”

“Three days ago?” James asked. “You’ve seen nothing of Lacy for three days?”

“Not for the lack of looking. I’ve had my crew searching from dawn to dusk. That Indian walked into those trees with her and vanished. If he took the trouble to save her, it’s not likely he’ll kill her. I’ve given orders to shoot him on sight.”

“No ... don’t shoot Kutii. He’s a good man. He wouldn’t harm Lacy.”

“No?” Matthew raised a thick eyebrow in disbelief. “Well, I suppose tumbling never hurt a sturdy wench, but—”

“Kutii wouldn’t hurt her,” James repeated stubbornly. “If anything’s happened to her, it’s your fault. I’ll hold you responsible.”

“No doubt you will.”

James’s voice dropped to a harsh whisper. “I’ll have Lacy back safe and alive,” he promised, “or I’ll kill you. I swear, I will.”

“Save the brash talk, boy. You’re not fit to kill a flea.” His hand fell on James’s shoulder. “Never mind that. You save your strength. We’ll get your woman back. But I warn you, I like the cut of her jib, and I always did favor redheads.” Matthew smiled. “I’ll steal her away from you if I get half a chance.”

 

The last thing Lacy remembered was James’s arms around her as they leaped over the side of the
Silkie
. When she regained consciousness, Kutii was carrying her through the jungle. Her head hurt terribly. She reached up and touched the aching place, and her fingers came away bloody. “Where’s James?” she whispered hoarsely.

“No talk,” Kutii replied.

She was aware of ferns brushing her face and body. Kutii’s stride was quick and smooth, but each movement jarred her head. She wanted to ask about James again, to be certain he was safe ... but she was so tired. So tired ... She laid her cheek against Kutii’s bare chest. She’d rest ... just a little ...

For an instant the Indian’s scent filled her nostrils. He smelled faintly woodsy with a hint of musk. It was a strangely comforting smell. Lacy’s tensed muscles relaxed and she drifted into a dream-filled sleep.

She came fully awake when the first ribbons of dawn spilled into the mossy hollow. The sound of tumbling water and birdcalls eased her fears. Carefully, remembering the awful pain, she sat upright. Kutii was beside her.

“Drink,” he said, offering her a cupped leaf full of sparkling water.

The taste was sweet and clear, and it washed the bitter salt and blood from her tongue. She put her hand up to her hair and found a crude bandage of leaves.

“You hurt. I make better,” Kutii said in his deep, musical voice.

Her eyes dilated with apprehension. “James?”

“He draws breath. He no die.”

“Where is he?” She looked around, then smiled foolishly. Of course James wasn’t here. If he were, she would have known it at once. “He’s all right? You’re sure, Kutii?”

“He have hurt. No die. Jamesblack strong man. Strong man to guard star woman—guard treasure. He warrior. No die.”

“Where is he?” she demanded, grasping Kutii’s hand. No longer alien to her, Kutii was as dear as a brother. His touch was reassuring, his devil-black eyes shone with compassion, and his barbaric tattoos seemed almost beautiful against his copper-gold skin. “I love him, Kutii,” she admitted. “I think ... I know I carry his child.”

The Incan squeezed her hand. “So. It is as I have seen. You are the one. You will save my people.”

“Me?” Her lips parted in bewilderment. “I don’t understand. I was talking about James. Ye must tell me where James is. Does the captain ... Did the men from the big ship capture him?”

“So. Jamesblack be on big
barco
of Ma’hewkay. Big ship of El Capitan.”

Lacy covered her mouth with her hands. “I’ve got to go to him,” she said. “Captain Kay wants the treasure. He’ll won’t hurt James if I—”

“El Capitan ...” Kutii hesitated, searching for the right English words. His scarred hand moved gracefully in the air. “Like snake.” He tapped his forehead. “Smart.” Then he brought one brown thumb back to graze the skin above his own heart. “Empty here. Like snake, he think only of self. No have love. No have heart.”

“I don’t intend to marry the man, just bargain with him.”

“No trust.”

“I don’t trust him, but I do have to—Ohhh.” She put a hand to her head. “Oh, mother of God, but this thing hurts. What did I do to it?”

“Little boat ...” His hand gestures plainly showed the
Silkie
flying apart. “Head catch part of little boat. Kutii bring star woman from water. Save. Now, Kutii ask favor.”